Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1887-07-28
HOWELLs' BoYHOoD.
The story or the Homeslck Little Printer.

Idkc lilC l1lstCC VI u
there was no question with any one
but myself that l must go. For me, a
terrible inconsistencies fell instantly
upon me-a inconsistencies that al
ready, in the mere prospect of absence,
pierced my heart, and filled my throat.
and blinded me with tears.
The foreman wanted me to go back
with him in his buggy, but a days
grace was granted me, and then my
older brother took me to X, where
he was to meet my father at the rail-
road station on his return from Gin
cinnati. 1t had been showing, in the
soft, Southern Ohio fashion, but the
clouds had broken away and the even
ing fell in clear sky, apple-green
along the horizon, as we drove on.
This color of the sky must always be
associated for me with the despair that
then filed my soul, and which / was
constantly swallowing down with great
gulps. We joked, and got some miser.
able laughter out of the efforts of the
horse to free himself from the snow
chat balled in his hoofs, but suffered
all the time an anguish of homesick.
ness that now seems incredible. AL
the time had every fact of the cabin
life before me; what each of the chill
dren was doing, especially the younger
ones, and what, above all. my mother
was doing, and how at every moment
she was looking; saw the wretched
little phantasm of myself moving about
there.
The editor to whom my brother de-
livered me over could not conceive OF
me as tragedy; he received me as if
were the merest commonplace, and de-
livered me in turn to the good mar
with whom l was to board. There
were half a dozen school girls board
ing there, too, and their gayety when
they came in added to my desolation
The man said supper was about
ready, and he reckoned | would get
something to eat if | looked out fol-
myself. Upon reflection, l answered
that thought did not want any sup
per, and that ! must go to find my
brother, whom had to tell something
| found him at the station and told hin
| was going home with him. He trieC
to reason with me, or rather with my
frenzy of inconsistencies; and agreed
to leave the question open till my faith
er came; but in my own mind it wa:
closed.
My father suggested, however, some
thing that had not occurred to either
Of us; we should both stay. Thi:
seemed possible for me; but not at tha
clearinghouse within the SOUND
of the laughter of those girls! w,
went - the hotel, where we had beef
steak and ham and eggs and hot bis
cult every morning for breakfast, anC
where we paid s. apiece for the weel
we stayed. AT the end of this time the
editor had found another hand, anC
we went home, where | was welcomed
as from years absence.
Again | was called to suffer this tria
the chief trial of my boyhood-bi.t i
came in milder form, and was light
ened to me not only by the experienced
of survival from it, but by various cir
cumstances. This time | went tC
D, where one of my uncles wa
still living, and he somehow learned
the misery | was in, and babe me com,
and stay with him while | remained il
D. was very fond of him and o
the gentle creature, his wife, who stood
to me for all that was naturally anC
conventionally refined, type of gra
cious lovcliness and worldly splendor
They had an only child, to whom
her cousins presence in the house wa!
constant joy. Over them all hung
the shadow of fragile health, and lool
back at them through the halo of theil
early death; but the remembrance car
not make them kinder than they really
were. With all that was homesick
still. fell asleep with the radiant
image of our log cabin before my eyes
and | awoke with my heart like lead
in my breast.
did not see how l could get through
the day, and | began it with miserable
tears. had found that by drinking Q
good deal of water at my meals / coulC
keep down the sobs for the time being
and practiced this device to the sur
prise and alarm of my relatives, who
We're troubled with the spectacle of my
unnatural thirst.
Sometimes | left the table and ran
out for burst OF tears behind the
house; every night after dark | criec
there alone. But | could not wholly
hide my suffering, and l suppose tina
after awhile the sight of it became in
tolerable. AT any rate, a blessed
evening came, when, returning from
work, found my brother waiting foi
me at my unclc's house; and the mex
morning we set out for home in tn,
keen silent dark before the November
dawn.
We were both mounted on the italic
footed mare, behind my brother with
my arms around him to keep on bet
ter, and SO we rode out of the sleeping
town and into the lifting shadow of the
woods. They might have swarmed
with ghosts or Indians, ! should not
have cared; | was going home.
By-and-by, rs we rode on. the birds
began to call one another from their
dreams; the quails whistled from the
stubble fields, and the crows clamored
from the tops Of the deadening. The
squirrels raced along the fence-rails,
and in the woods they stopped half.
way up the holes to bark at us; the
jays strutted down the shelving
branches to offer us y passing insult
anu ueliduce.
Presently, at little clearing, we
came to a log cabin; the blue smoke
curled from its chimney, and through
the closed door came the soft, low hum
Of a spinning-wheel. The red and yel-
low leaves, heavy with the cold dew,
dripped round us; and | was profound
~ at peace. The homesick will under
stand how it was that / was as if saved
from death.
At last we crossed the tail-race from
the island and turned up, not at the
old log cabin, but at the front door of
the new house. The family had fitted
during my absence, and now they all
burst out upon me in exultant welcome,
and my mother caught me TO her heart.
Doubtless she knew that it would have
been better for me to have conquered
myself; but my defeat was dearer to
her than my triumph could have been.
She made me her honored guest; had
the best place at the table, the tender
est bit of steak, the richest cup of her
golden coffee; and all that day | was
company. w D. HotcellS tn YOUTH
Companion.